


Run to your father, little boy.

by Angelicasdean



Series: Walk the path of a sinner, meet the dues of the devil. [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur as a dad, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Isaac Morgan lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 19:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20013247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicasdean/pseuds/Angelicasdean
Summary: Part one of a timestamped series.





	Run to your father, little boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this was posted a few months back as the first chapter of 'With my fading soul' but I realized that format won't work for this, so I turned it into a series.
> 
> Note: The parts of this series won't be in chronological order. 
> 
> _So far, it seems like it's going well. Isaac is a little ball of eternal giddiness and is full of dreams, mostly of becoming a hunter like his father. As far as he knows, Arthur is a hunter of animals, and not so much of money and fortune. ___

Arthur doesn't pride himself for much, except his gang and the little family he so luckily found. At 25, Arthur can call himself a father and a husband, sort of. Eliza loves him, he loves her and they have a little baby boy that they're doing their best to raise well. So far, it seems like it's going well. Isaac is a little ball of eternal giddiness and is full of dreams, mostly of becoming a hunter like his father. As far as he knows, Arthur is a hunter of animals, and not so much of money and fortune. Eliza knows him for what he is, hell, they'd met through a bar fight. She still accepts him, and it's all he can ask for.

It all seems like a dream, those days Arthur spends with them, waking up in Eliza's arms, warm and content and loved. They try as much as they can to be a normal family, they eat together, they play together, Arthur even taught Isaac the basics of writing. He has never thought he'd be so proud to see someone write their own name. But nothing, absolutely nothing, can hold a candle against the chest filling pride at hearing Isaac call him Pa. It'd been weird at first, when Eliza told him the kid is his, he had half a mind to leave and never come back, but somehow he had managed to fall in love with her bright blue eyes and sharp tongue, fell in love hard enough that he stayed and became a father. And maybe he fancied being a father, even if he was scared shitless, afraid he'll mess up an innocent boy inadvertently, but he had melted into fatherhood just like a duck takes to swimming. 

He can't say he expected everything to go smoothly, he knows his luck and his lifestyle knows that there is only so much time before something bad happens. But he had kept Eliza and Isaac a secret, only shared between him, Dutch, Hosea, and John, only because the youngest bastard went around Arthur's journal behind his back. They know to keep it shut, keep it hushed up, and they did, in fact, they kept it well enough that no one had heard the tales of Arthur's affairs, not the recent feud against Colm O'driscoll not the Xander boys, not even Caine's boys. No one. Not even half of camp.

His escapades are accepted as hunting trips, accepted as running errands, and when he comes back with a new kids drawing filling his satchel and a grin that fades only after a few days, well, who has enough guts to ask about it. Of course, there are speculations between the group, gossip is what fuels them after all, chases away their boredom by digging little holes and hoping someone would slip into one of them and reveal a secret. No one guesses it right, thankfully. The gossip usually was along the lines of him having a secret lover, and while they're right on that front, no one guesses that he's a father.

It's only a few days after his latest visit that he gets the news. His stomach drops into his toes, and he could almost feel his heart spasm in worry. It all seemed so _obvious_. He should have known, should have _stayed_. He knew that the rumors of Julien Ravens and his gang being in town, terrorizing and robbing had been strong, they'd been reliable enough that it had Dutch putting three men on watch instead of one, they'd been told to stay alert and that none of them should work jobs alone. He could make up excuses, that he was too busy or too caught up tying loose ends. He was helping Dutch and Hosea, he'd been taking care of his found family, and amidst it, he'd forgotten that 'robbing' wasn't just robbing stores, and that it had included home robberies, and even worse, he had forgotten that the area under attack put his little Isaac and Eliza in danger.

He had realized it too late, realized it when he heard about the neighborhood he had set up Eliza in was hit, that there was a robbery that ended in blood, that it was a woman, a woman that bared the same description as Eliza, a woman the neighbors Arthur knew had to bury. He didn't stick around much, once he had heard the news he had bolted, leaving Hosea alone in the saloon calling after him.

Arthur had panicked, for good reason. The woman he fell in love with, most probably dead, his son, his child, the little glitter of innocence he holds so dear to him, possibly gone too. His horse snorted under him in shock at the speed he was pushing her to run, without even a warning he had spurred her into a gallop, almost running down townsmen. 

When he arrived, all too soon it feels like, he had found that the house he'd bought for them looked sullen and dead, the usual sounds of laughter or child's play absent. Arthur slides from his horse, uneven on his feet as he pushes past the fence, freezing at the cross, wooden and hasty, planted with Eliza's name engraved on it. _Elizabeth Morgan_.

They'd written his last name, because as far as the neighbors know, he's married to her. It feels... it feels _fake_ , too surreal. His Eliza, the only one he'd let himself fall for after having his heart torn by Mary, is _gone_. The woman he had bought a ring for, gave it to her and called her a wife, _Elizabeth_ , only twenty-four, so _young._

Gone.

Arthur takes a few steps before he sinks slowly to his knees, holding the dirt where Eliza is buried under, his heart beats fast, _too fast_ , eyes brimming with tears. Eliza, the mother of his child, is gone.

His child. _Shit_.

Arthur blinks the tears away, scanning the grass for another cross, afraid of what he might see, but there is nothing, only Eliza is lying in the dirt. Only her name is engraved on a cross.

A new task at hand, new hope in his chest, Arthur pushes himself and heads into the house, Issac's name on his lips. He's only six, but he's smart for his age, Arthur wouldn't bare losing him, losing his entire family, the family he'd built and stayed with for so long, the family he loved so much. It'd destroy him.

"Isaac, it's me," Arthur calls, running around the house hastily. There was nothing, the only thing out of place was the bloodstained rug on the floor, the deer hide he'd hunted and turned into a rug, Eliza had called it the first-ever house warming gift he got them, Isaac always played on it with the little wooden horses Eliza had a habit of making, now stained. **Forever**.

The house is empty of life, Arthur's chest tightens unbearably. If Isaac isn't dead, then he could be out in the streets, could be under Julien's hands. Arthur stumbles out the house, dazed and confused and sad, the sight of the cross makes his heart lurch again, his body feeling hot and cold. He could ask the neighbors, he's friends enough with them, they'd recognize him, Isaac likes Peterson enough, maybe he's with him, he could have run to him.

A little glimmer of hope, drowned by fear, that's what drives Arthur to knock at the door, his eyes are still teary, he'd calmed his breathing a little but it's still labored. Peterson opens the door, rifle poking Arthur in the chest and pushing him a step away. Instinctively, Arthur backs away, hands falling to his pistol, but relaxes when Peterson sighs in relief.

"Arthur," Peterson greets, placing a hand over Arthur's shoulder, "Friend, I'm so sorry," He says, face apologetic as he glances behind Arthur, "Have you-"

"I heard, I-I saw..." Arthur mumbles, "But Isaac, I-please tell me you have him," Arthur begs, eyes brimming again as he tries to imagine how scared his little boy must be, mother dead, father away.

"He's here, Martha's playing with him, the poor thing came over crying and scared out of his mind, covered in blood. She was already gone too far when I got to her, Arthur, I swear, I tried to help but she was..." Peterson explains, voice falling to a whisper and eyes turning sad.Arthur nods, sighing as his chest lightens a little. His boy is alive, for now, that's what's important, "Come in, friend, come, Isaac will be happy to see you, hold your picture every night while he sleeps, he does. It and that horse toy," Peterson rambles as he leads Arthur into his house, Arthur can feel his legs wobble with relief, he can hear Martha's voice, Isaac's too, quiet and shy "Breaks my heart, it does, it does" Peterson whispers under his breath, "I'm glad you're here,"

"Me too, Pete, me too," Arthur says, stepping around the man as Isaac comes into view, dressed in the outfit Hosea had bought him a little while ago, hair combed back and horse toy clutched tightly between his little fingers, "Isaac, sweetheart," Arthur can't help but say as he steps closer to Isaac. The little boy looks up quickly, abandoning his playtime and running towards his father, who kneeled to hug him quickly.

"Pa!" Isaac wails in Arthur's ear, "Pa, they hurt mommy, they - they took her away!"

Arthur squeezes his eyes for a moment, holding Isaac tighter as the little boy goes on, "I know, sweetheart, I need you to calm down now,"

"You said you'd always be here for us, Pa!" Isaac says innocently, eyes wide as Arthur pulls back guiltily, "The bad guys, you said you'd never let them hurt us,"

"I'm sorry, darling," Arthur replies, eyes tearing up again, soon he'd have no tears left to cry, can already feel a headache coming up, "I'm so sorry, I-I,"

"Don't cry, Pa," Isaac says quietly, "Mommy said to tell you she loved you, said you'll take care of me," Isaac whispers, placing a hand on Arthur's cheek, "Will you leave again, Pa ?" he asks and Arthur is quick to shake his head.

"No, sweetheart, you-you'll come with me, remember-remember grandpa Hosea?" Isaac nods, "We'll go with him, then I'll never leave you again, sound good, Isaac?"

"Yes, Pa," Isaac agrees, "Will we go now?" he asks and Arthur nods, pushing himself to his feet and motioning for Isaac to let him carry him. Isaac responds immediately, raising his arms in the air and letting Arthur gently pick him up.

"I think we gave the kind Mister and Mrs. Leonard here enough trouble, say thank you, Isaac," Arthur encourages gently and Isaac dutifully thanks them, "I can't ever repay you, Peterson," Arthur sighs, "I can pay you for your trouble,"

"Nonsense, my friend," Peterson says gently, "You know we both love Isaac as our own, he's a polite kid too,"

"You've got me forever in debt," Arthur tips his head slightly, "You need anything, send me a letter, I'll be happy to help,"

"Of course, take care, now" Peterson farewells as Arthur walks away, letting himself out of the house and carrying Isaac towards where he left his horse.

"You miss Cleo, Isaac?" Arthur asks, distracting the little boy from the cross in the grass as they pass their old house. Arthur tightens his hand around Isaac instinctively, now that the threat of losing his son is gone, worry is replaced with the anger of getting ripped away from the life he dreamed of, the life his son deserved.

"Yes!" Isaac replies excitedly, "Can I hold her reigns this time, please?"

"Sure, anything, sweetheart," Arthur agrees calmly, whistling for Cleopatra to meet them halfway, "You hurt at all?"

"No, Momma told me to run once the men found us hiding," He answers simply, brightening as Cleopatra saunters towards them "One man tried to grab me, but I did the thing you told me, Pa, and I kicked him in the knees and he let me go, so I ran away to Mister Leo, and when I brought them over, Momma was hurt, and she told me to stay good and that she loved me and you, she said you knew what to do," he continues as Arthur places him on the saddle, silent and trying his hardest not to let his anger loose in front of Isaac.

Of course she had given herself to protect their little boy, she always was fierce, Arthur doesn't have a doubt she gave them a fight before they took her down, it was something that had first drawn him to her, how she seemed to be calm and collected but not to be crossed, didn't mind saying her two cents and slapping a man silly. He wished he was at least there to help her, there to assure her he's got Isaac now, will keep him safe, will do everything he can. Even though Isaac be around their gang, he won't break his promise to Eliza, the kid won't grow to be like any of them, he'll be taught and put through school, no blood on his hand, no bounty over his head, won't be involved with any of the jobs.

Isaac plays with Cleopatra's hair idly as Arthur turns them away from the neighborhood, feeling a sliver of himself chip away, the love he had for Eliza will stay, their little domestic dream they've managed to balance for six whole years, it will stay here, untouched, stained but still pure in the memories.


End file.
